


Sketchbook

by WriteThroughTheNight



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mourning, Steve's Drawings, Team as Family, clint being nosy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 12:10:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1817968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteThroughTheNight/pseuds/WriteThroughTheNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve had just left the sketchbook lying on the couch. It seemed harmless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sketchbook

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little oneshot I wrote to take a break from longer WIPs. Enjoy!

Steve had just left the sketchbook lying on the couch. It seemed harmless.

Everyone in the Tower had a drawing from Steve. Clint hung his own on the wall. A picture of him asleep half-way off the couch, just back from a mission with bandages peeking out from beneath his shirt. He was still in his tac suit, ripped up as it was. Steve had given the drawing to him a few months back, and Phil had geeked out. When he'd received his own a few weeks later, his eyes had lit up. It was a picture of Phil in the Community Kitchen, pristine in a suit and reading the paper. He had a coffee cup held to his lips, and a real smile on his face. Steve had managed to capture Clint's favorite one, where Phil's eyes crinkled up even as his mouth barely twitched. Clint would deny to his dying day that he had copied the picture and carried one around in his bow case.

Both sketches were incredible. He wasn't much of an art person, but he wouldn't deny an urge to see more of Steve's work.

The sketchbook lay forgotten on the couch, and Clint's fingers itched to pick it up. He couldn't see the harm in it, after all Steve had willingly given them other drawings.

Clint flipped to the first page, smiling when he recognized it. It was a full team shot, drawn during one of their movie nights. Bruce was snuggled into an armchair, face calm and relaxed. He watched Tony in the picture with an amused eye, as the man himself had his mouth opened wide. That was Tony. He insisted on talking his way through almost every movie, even if he was the one who picked it.

Thor sat on the love seat, face wrinkled in confusion as Pepper gestured at the TV screen, no doubt trying to explain the movie's plot to him. The usually uptight woman was in sweatpants, and what looked like one of Tony's t-shirts, legs tucked underneath her. Thor even donned normal people clothing instead of a full-out Asgardian battle gear.

The couch was occupied by Phil, Nat, and himself. Nat leaned back against the arm of the couch, stretching her feet across Clint and Phil's laps, her usual position. Her eyes were focused intently on the screen, but Clint was sure she knew exactly what was going on with everyone around her. She was wearing yoga pants, but somehow Steve managed to capture the slight bulge on one leg. Natasha never went anywhere unarmed. Phil was still in a suit, clinging to a semblance of professionalism. However, his expression was more relaxed than it ever was at the office. His arm and Clint's just barely brushed each other's. They hadn't revealed their relationship to the team yet, but they weren't big on PDA anyway.

Clint trailed his thumb over his husband's face, smiling, before he turned the page.

On the next was the face of a woman that Clint recognized as Peggy Carter, Captain America's lost love. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Clint flipped the page quickly, feeling as if he had intruded in on something private.

The next picture was even more so.

It depicted a man lying across a bed, sheets only barely covering his waist. His back was pockmarked by little scars and freckles, and everything was drawn with painful attention to detail. The man's body was alternately drawn in light and shadows. Shading dripped into the hollows of hipbones, and the fine lines of hair glinted off the page. Black and white, maybe, but the sketch glowed to Clint. Beautiful, and drawn by a lover's hand . It wasn't what Clint was expecting, but as he flipped quickly through the rest of the sketches, he understood.

It seemed like the history books had gotten it wrong. The only person that Steve Rogers was ever in love with was Bucky Barnes.

A soft noise in the doorway made Clint look up. He had paused on a picture of Bucky's young face, lip split and eye blackened. Steve stared at the sketch in Clint's hands with wide eyes, something like apprehension marring his face.

Clint meant to say something comforting and apologetic, a heavy platitude like "I'm sorry for your loss", but what came out instead was,

"He was fighting for you long before World War II, wasn't he?" 

Steve crumpled in on himself. Broad shoulders hunched, and his next breath rattled wetly. This man had won a war, helped greatly in another, and he was knocked to his knees by one question. Captain America had never looked so small. 

Clint was quick to ease him to the couch, muttering apologies as he went. Steve buried his face in his hands. Clint stared in horror. Oh God, he'd made a national icon cry, Phil would ban him to the couch for _weeks_. 

"You don't care?" Steve asked. His voice was muffled by his hands. Clint was quick to shake his head. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Anything to make Steve stop looking like a kicked puppy.

"Course not. That would be pretty hypocritical of me, seeing as Phil and I have been married for three years." _That_ got Steve to lift his head.

"What?!" 

Clint hadn't meant to blurt that out, but he couldn't regret it now. If he wasn't mistaken that was wonder and awe in Steve's expression. He wouldn't take that back.

"Yep. Two men or two women can get married now, in quite a few states." Clint couldn't bear to look at the Steve's response. The smile was too bright and genuine, tinted with too much bitterness and longing.

"That's- that's great."

"Yeah." Clint sighed. They sat in silence for a few moments, before Clint turned and met Steve's eyes. "Sorry for looking in your sketchbook, Cap." Steve shook his head.

"It's alright, I think." 

Clint stood, and clapped Steve on the shoulder.

"If you ever want to talk, I'm here, and so is the rest of the team. Trust me, none of them would care." Steve smiled again, a far happier expression.

"You might be right." Clint scoffed.

"Cap, I'm _always_ right." He slipped around the corner before Steve could respond. Right now, he needed to find Phil. Sometimes, when faced with loss, the only thing you could do was hold on to what you had tighter.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Sketchbook](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6099943) by [Sheena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheena/pseuds/Sheena), [WriteThroughTheNight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteThroughTheNight/pseuds/WriteThroughTheNight)




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